For the past couple of days, I was restless. I have not completed my Christmas shopping list and have no idea when will my Balikbayan box will be ready for pick-up. I am now in my amo's villa, forty-five minute drive away from the city and still do not know when on earth I am celebrating this year's Christmas.
With the help of some good friends here in Abu Dhabi, I managed to pack the Balikbayan box I am sending for the ones I loved back home just before the Christmas day. The sad part though is, everybody will have to wait until the third week of January 2008. I can no longer afford to send it via Airfreight. My apologies.
To my college friend Roy and to Grace of Studio R, thank you for the 40% discount. I have to admit that I will not be able to purchase the things I bought without your privilege cards. To Vina, thanks for the consideration and I am sorry if in any way, nakaistorbo ako. To Gio, salamat sa tape at sa tsokolate at kay Pareng Rodjie sa pangungulit kay Gio na bigyan na ako ng tape. Hehehe. To Richie, your packing skills are commendable. Thank you very much for your help, understanding and patience. Sorry din, if in any way, naka-abala ako. And of course, to Lourdes, thank you very much for being there. You’re such a friend and I am forever grateful for all the good things that you’ve done and you will do to me. Many many thanks dude.
I am craving for some Boy Bawang. My taste buds are longing for this addictive, overly flavored MSG cornick.
Just this afternoon, my Indian friend went to the city to send money for his family. I immediately asked his favor to purchase three Boy Bawangs for me. I constantly gave him phone calls to remind him as he might forget the correct pronunciation of it. He called me back to inform me that he cannot find any Boy Bawang. I told him to look for another grocery shop and try his luck. I know well that most of the grocery shops in Abu Dhabi sell some Filipino foods. There are Likas Papaya, Safeguard, Eskinol and even Lala and some other junk foods available.
When he finally came, I almost jumped out of bed to get the Boy Bawangs and satisfy my MSG craving. I soon learned that he was not able to buy me even a single one. Grrrr. He tried three grocery stores and found out that Boy Bawang was already out-of-stock! Grrrr ulit. My poor Indian friend even visited a Filipino restaurant and asked a Filipino where in Abu Dhabi he can buy this Boy Bawang with his weird Indian accent. Unfortunately, even the Pinoy did not help him to find one.
I want Boy Bawang, can you please send me one. Oh no, not one piece, I want a dozen. Yes, one dozen and I can guarantee you; I can finish it all in less than an hour.
Last Saturday, I received the news that the room for me is finally ready for occupancy. I contacted my soon-to-be roommates and neighbors; some are Kabayans. The supposedly goods news for me turned into a bad or should I say a worst one. After several inquiries, I found out that I would be sharing the room with five other individuals including one Kabayan. I immediately went to my room-to-be and checked it out. I found out that the room is smaller than the room where I am staying and has three double-deck beds. What makes the news even worst is the fact that I am sharing the room with one of the worst employee of my amo. Then, I made up my mind not to transfer anymore.
I called the manager and raised my concerns. He enumerated the advantages of the new room. Yes, he is right. The condition of the new room is far better than the room where I stay now. My issue is not only about the sanitation and about condition of the room. I cannot share a bedroom with somebody who I do not trust and do not like. I am not fond of pretending to like somebody else but deep inside me, I want to kill the person. That is bullshit! Besides, knowing the persons who will be using the room, I bet it will turn into a jungle in few weeks time. Most of them seldom take a bath and change their clothing. Yuck. Call me racist and discriminatory but man; I want a private sanctuary where at least I can have some clean air!
I am supposed to stay in a single bedroom as stated in my contract not in single bed in a bedroom sharing with five other persons. I told the manager that I am not moving to the new room. Instead, I will share an old room with two other Kabayans inside the private villa. Though not new, I know that my stay there will be far worth than sharing the room with a devil and some others that stink!
I do not have enough things to say on this third trip to Morocco. Some consider me as the luckiest person alive because I do not work at all. For some reasons, my employer is not calling me for any massage session. My day starts at eleven in the morning when I wake up and ends at three in the morning when I sleep. Everyday is the repetition of the previous one. The lifestyle that I have is so sedentary and I have all the luxury of time to rest and sleep, to listen to OPM music over and over again, read Isabel Allende’s Daughter of Fortune, sleep, eat, smoke, sleep, eat, smoke, rest, sleep and sleep and sleep!
My life here is so stagnant, so boring and I hate it! Will somebody give me a new life, a real life, please?
I once said, “I will never spend a hundred bucks for just a cup a coffee!” But things changed.
As more coffee shops and cafés dot Manila and other Philippines’ key cities and the rest of the world, students, young adults and the not so young ones find ways to appreciate and enjoy their stay in this social networking ground.
If I remember it right, my first coffee experience was with my certified coffee addict and good friend, Almich four years ago. After two buckets of San-Mig Light, he invited me to have a coffee break in Starbucks Malate. The aromatic smell of the shop was so relaxing and I instantly fell in love with the idea of spending sometime in this wonderful place. We talked about everything and anything. I enjoyed the moment of staying in a very good and comfortable place in company with a good person while having the pleasure of the addictive cup of Cappuccino. We promised ourselves to be back more often along with some more good friends. Though hesitant, some of our friends joined our once a month coffee session several months after our discovery. And as time passed by, I found myself together with good friends visiting a coffee shop more often than we imagined.
With all the trappings of modern digital world, I think cafés remain to be one of the places where minds meet, where you find activity partners, where you fall in love and where business deals are clinched. What me and my coffee buddies enjoy the most about cafés is the moment of being with each other whether it lasts for half an hour or until the sun is up. The coffee shop is our favorite sanctuary where we exchange news and gossips, political views and ideals, our thoughts, our fears, or aspirations and frustrations. We regularly took the trip back in our high school years and laughed about the silly things we did back then. At times, we just sat and watched life pass by while the smell of coffee with a hint of mocha, hazelnut or vanilla, livened our senses. Coffee shops became integral part of our friendship.
Fast forward today and I am working in UAE, my friends back home, café still remains a place that sets life in motion for many including me and my friends. Whenever I visit malls and passed by Starbucks and the likes, I cannot help but miss my coffee buddies so bad. I still feel good whenever I walk into a café - the smell, the color, the lights, the music and fond memories of the great sessions I had with my coffee buddies - Lorraine, Almich, Eman, Au and the rest of the gang.
Yes, a venti cup Cappuccino or a Mocha Macchiato, the instant internet connection and comfy couch may provide me a relax sitting which I can escape the daily rush and realities of life for a while and satisfy my caffeine craving, I recognize the fact that nothing will change. I still miss the whole gang because I know coffee will never be as good as with their company. I miss you all guys and I am looking forward for some more coffee sessions with you.
For more than two and a half decades of existence in this world, meeting countless people from all walks of life, I was surprised that one of the most horrible and worst person I will meet is my co-employee. Do not get me wrong, I was never a judgmental person. The right time has come for me to say that my assessment about this man’s personality and character is long enough. I already spent more than five months with him and its safe for me say that being with him is like being in hell.
Let me call the person S. S is from the Middle east and is more than 45 years old. He is married, has five children, and works as the shawarma maker for the past 10 years here in the palace. When I first met him in Morocco last June, I thought he is the one in charge in my employer’s personal kitchen staff. Sooner, I learned through my friend, Noel that this S is just acting as if he is the big boss inside the kitchen stadium. He frequwntly yells to anybody whenever he asks favors or whenever he feels doing so. S annoys not only me but also most our fellow staff. Noel usually calls him as “demonyo“. S plays practical jokes that are not funny and sometimes offensive to the person. One time, when Noel was very busy double-checking the personal stuff of my employer, S started playing some jokes and continued bothering Noel. Annoyed and irritated, Noel suddenly turned into a lion and roared aloud, “Stop bothering me! When you are busy you do not also want to be bothered!” Feeling terrorized, S retreated like a puppy.
Even back home, I always enjoy a shawarma. Every night since I started working here, I used to eat one or two of it. As weeks passed, whenever I asked S to make one for me, he would asked me to give him a 10 minute massage in exchanged for a piece of shawarma. Of course, whenever I declined, he refused to make one for me. Then, I decided to ask his permission if I can personally make one for me, he agreed and gave me the right to prepare the shawarma I will eat. Some months ago, my band of brothers was talking about the hygiene and sanitation of the people around us. Noel told me how untidy and unhygienic S is. Every time S makes the shawarma, he would just grab the frozen chicken off the fridge and de-frost it in a bucket of water. He will then directly prepare other ingredients without using sanitary gloves and without even washing his hands. S uses his bare hands to take the chicken out of the bucket and without washing it: he will prepare the freshly defrosted meat ready to be cooked. Upon learning, I imagined how germ infested his shawarma is and I never again asked for his shawarma.
On our second trip to Morocco, I was unfortunate to share the room with S. Though he takes shower occasionally and changes his clothes, his scent was as awful as his feet. In addition, whenever he takes a bath, the whole bathroom was as a disaster as if a tsunami just hit it. He sleeps with his mouth widely open displaying his ruinous teeth. In addition, man, he snores like a pig. The vibrations of his soft palate served as my alarm clock during those fucking days. However, whenever he wakes up ahead of me, the smell of his cigarette would awaken me. I do smoke but I have this habit of not smoking inside the bedroom especially if the room does not have an exhaust or without opening the window. I find the bedroom a smoke-free zone. However, he continuously smoked and threw cigarette butts around his bed even after I told him not to. Sharing a room with him was a horrible experience.
Some months ago, when I was having a quick lunch inside the kitchen, S and Rey (Salad Maker) were also there. Out of nowhere, S touched Rey’s back. Rey hit S back in response to what he did. Funny as it may seem, the joke was quite offensive even if they are both males.
One time, S discreetly took my mobile while I was eating. When I asked where my mobile is, he started denying and naming the persons who, according to him, took my mobile. I decided to call my mobile and when it started to ring, he suddenly rushed to get away from me. I grabbed his shirt and forcibly took my mobile from him. “Never take my mobile again“, I snarled.
On a trip to my employer’s favorite getaway (a villa 30 minutes away from the city), I was with S and three more members of the staff. When finally arrived, S started demanding to drop him on the private villa. The driver apologetically said, “I cannot go there because I am not authorized to bring you there. You can call another driver”. S started shouting Arabic words that I did not understand but I certainly knew those words coming out of his mouth are as foul as his breath. The driver, who happens to be Arabic speaking, too, fought back. It was the Holy month of Ramadan when this incident happened. The word-war between the driver and S almost turned into a boxing match if not for the immediate mediation of some people from the main kitchen.
When we were in Tanzania, I also learned that S had a fistfight with Piro, (chef from the main kitchen). Though I did not know the exact details how the fight began, I was not surprised when they informed me about the fighting incident. According to the people who witnessed the fight, S came to the kitchen telling bad things about Piro. Little did he know that Piro was just on the other side of the room. For an obvious reason, I am on Piro’s side. On our last day in Tanzania, while waiting for the 15-seater aircraft that will bring us to Julius Nyerere International Airport, Noel told me, what S did with the Massai (local women). S together with another member of the staff took advantage of the opportunity by offering food to the locals in exchange of exposing and caressing the nipples of the poor Massai’s breasts, (the other one denied the wrongdoings). According to the stories circulating around the four corners of the kitchen, S even asked the poor Massai to jerk him off. I was flabbergasted when I heard it. Up until now, I cannot figure out how on earth a person would do something really bad like what S did. Only a psychopath evil would do that horrendous thing. The Massais may lack the basic knowledge, maybe unaware of their rights and maybe underprivileged but they have rights and their rights must be respected because Massais’ rights are still human rights. Massais out-of-this-world practices and traditions do not make them lesser persons after all. S’s actions towards his co-employees and towards other people continue to offend some more others and me until now. S is a dirty, maniac, wicked beast and a fiend that will drive you crazy!
I always believe when I read Anne Frank’s that people are really good at heart, but I also learned that there are always exceptions. Obviously, S is the exception of what she said.
I wanted to know more about the promising land of Africa. Based on what I read on some materials and what I saw on TV, I know, Africa has so much to offer.
For nearly two weeks of stay, I found myself awed with Tanzania's natural, wild beauty. Though I find some of the Massai’s culture and traditions weird and out-of-this-world, I have to say, it is truly fascinating. I am impressed with the two young gentlemen I met there - Freddie Jonathan, who is a day older than I am and dreams to study in Italy to become an engineer and Farook - an avid fan of ABS-CBN’s Pangako Sa’yo and It Might be You. Farook told me how remarkable and captivating Pangako Sa’yo is. He is waiting for another ABS-CBN teleserye Kay Tagal Kang Hinintay.
There are some of the snapshots from my Sony DSC-9. Check out a fraction of what Tanzania has to offer and find out that our trip here was a hell of an adventure!
I am not holier than any of you. I am not perfect by any means. I commit mistakes, I stumble and fall. But I learn and I recover. There are events and things in my life that you will learn from. I also know the fact that I will learn from yours. Let's share ideas and stories, let's share peace and love. Let us live life, love one another and learn from each other. Let the dream shall never die!
